


One Day, I'm Gonna be Free

by Anonymous



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mentions of crime, Prison Sex, Rimming, Shameless Smut, a lot of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-04-05 07:57:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19044355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It would be just Roger's luck to get in with the wrong crowd, get arrested, and get thrown in jail with a hot cellmate that refuses to even speak to him.





	One Day, I'm Gonna be Free

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, this is my first fic ever ever so please be gentle! Basically I watched Jailbirds on Netflix and couldn't get this idea out of my head so... here it is. It's really shitty but I spent so much time writing it I wanted to publish it.  
> Just a disclaimer that there are some mentions of violence/attempted sexual assault, it's really not much but just in case!  
> Please don't read expecting accuracy as I based this on American prisons I've seen on TV even though I'm British, I don't really know anything about prison or the law.  
> I pictured 1980/81 John and 1975/6 Roger when writing this but you can picture them however you want. Hope you enjoy :)

Roger knew how he got here. He knew why he was in this position, an old corded phone pressed to his ear whilst the dial tone rang over and over, waiting for someone at home to answer. Nervously twisting the cord between his fingers, breathing shallowly, tears stinging his eyes. He loved his family, but he also knew what was coming; of course they can’t afford the bail. He just didn’t know who else to ring. We’re sorry Roger, we love you Roger, but why the hell were you involved with this Roger? The sound of his mother’s sobs as he choked out a plea for help haunted him as he hung up the phone. If only he could rewind 24 hours, if only he had realised what he had gotten himself into… hindsight is a wonderful thing.

Roger sat down heavily on the bench in the small room, trying to even out his breathing whilst he waited for the prison guards to return. He knew he shouldn’t if he wanted to calm down, but he couldn’t stop the questions and regrets flying around in his head. What was he supposed to do? He had no idea of how to act in prison or how to stand up for himself against the kinds of men that were no doubt in here. 

A stupid argument with his friends from university a few months ago led to him meeting new friends, getting involved in a different circle; a group of people that he thought were decent. They had fun together, they had his back, or so he thought. The extent of Roger’s criminal behaviour prior to this was dabbling with drugs with said friends or breaking the speed limit in his car. Until they asked him to pick them up and take them to an address. He ended up cowering underneath the steering wheel of his car whilst his ‘friends’ raided the house of an innocent family – shots were fired, but he was immensely grateful no one was hurt. Still, Roger was terrified, he was still terrified, he was still in shock. Where did he go from here? He was charged with robbery and faced a good few years in prison, though he didn’t know when his trial would be. His ‘friends’ knew he was a good driver and were counting on him as a getaway, but obviously weren’t expecting him to be collapsed on the floor of his car trembling in shock instead of driving. 

Before he could tear himself up about it anymore, he heard knocking on the window. His head snapped up, finding the prison guard waiting with clothes for him to change into. 

“Mr. Taylor, I need you to strip naked please. Remove everything including your socks and underwear and put them into this plastic bag for me, then change into the uniform.”

Roger was frozen for a few seconds until he realised this is his life now, for however long he ended up stuck in here; taking orders from guards and living in an orange prison uniform. He didn’t speak, just followed the orders, flushing as the guard studied his naked form intensely to ensure he wasn’t carrying any contraband. 

As soon as he was dressed, he tried to listen to the guard giving him a rundown of what to expect but there was too much running through his head for him to focus. The only thing he managed to take in was that he had to tuck his hands into his waistband, because apparently hands were ‘classed as a weapon’. Reassuring. His face must have shown something, because the guard spoke up.

“Listen. I can tell you’re not used to this, and I’m not going to tell you it’ll be easy because it won’t. But you’re going to have to get used to it. Keep your head down, but don’t be disrespectful. Toughen up, it’s in your best interest.”

And after that, he was being led to his cell.

As soon as they stepped through the door into the cell hall, jeers and shouts sounded out from all around him. The men were banging on the doors, shouting insults, cat calling, hollering… how was he supposed to live with these people? His breath quickened again at the thought of who his cellmate would be. Roger thought of himself as pretty tough, not usually intimidated by anyone or anything, but looking at some of the men in here, his estimations of his fighting prowess quickly dropped.

“Your cellmate is Deacon. Try not to piss him off.” Was all the guard said to him before pushing him through a door, swiftly closing it, and leaving him to his fate.

Roger looked around the cell. Probably a few metres long and wide, a bunk bed, a toilet, a sink, a small desk… and lying on the bottom bunk, a man scowling at him.

“Um… hi? I’m Roger -”

“Let me just get this straight, Roger. You don’t speak, you don’t bother me, you go on top bunk and don’t try any shit. Don’t cross me and don’t piss me off.” Snapped Deacon before rolling over, leaving his back facing Roger.

Well, Roger guessed it could be worse. He didn’t usually like taking orders from people, but his nerves at the new environment left him not caring much – plus, something about this Deacon guy just told him he really shouldn’t get on the wrong side of him. Roger could deal with silence; it was better than some guy trying to beat the shit out of him. He clambered up to the top bunk and lay down with his thin, prison issue blanket, hoping this was a nightmare he would wake up from soon.

***

It wasn’t a nightmare. Roger slept fitfully, tossing from side to side, until Deacon kicked the underside of his bed and told him to “keep fucking still”. Roger proceeded to lie on his back and stare at the stained ceiling until morning. And when morning came, he encountered his first prison problem; using the toilet. He needed to piss. Badly. He’d already held it for about an hour, too embarrassed to go when he knew Deacon was awake – he could hear him flicking through a book. In the end, he plucked up some courage.

“Uh, if I, need the bathroom, do I just… I mean can I just go? Or…” Roger tried to speak confidently, but it came out as more of an unsure whisper. He cringed at how pathetic he sounded, waiting for the inevitable abuse.

“Well, you’re not going to piss the fucking bed, are you?” Was all he got. Right.

After that was dealt with, and not without some embarrassment, he found himself with an abundance of questions. What did they do all day? When could they shower? What did Deacon do to get himself in jail? Roger was a fast learner, though, and knew he wouldn’t get the answers he desired. He sat there staring at the wall for what seemed like hours, thinking, panicking and calming himself down in a continuous cycle.

It must have really been hours, because a buzzing alarm startled him out of his daydreaming. He could see through the small window in the door that men were exiting their cells to congregate in the open seating area in the middle, and shortly afterwards Deacon joined them. Roger didn’t want to seem like a weird recluse, and Roger Taylor was not a coward – so he followed. 

As he walked down the stairs, he could feel eyes piercing him and following his every move, as well as hearing several shouts in his direction. He blocked it out, telling himself he needed to show his face now for it to get better in future. He sat at an empty table to the side, noticing through the window that John was in the small outdoor area, also sat alone. Other inmates seemed to respect Deacon, though; Roger could see them nodding at him as they passed. Roger knew for certain that joining Deacon would not be well received and would just cause more of a scene. Instead, he just enjoyed the time out of the cell to observe his new surroundings and stretch his legs. 

After an hour or so, the call came for them to return to their cells. Roger hung back, allowing most of the crowd to go first; little did he know he was about to get his real first taste of jail.

“Don’t say much do you, little one?” Growled a voice behind Roger, at the same time as a meaty hand grabbing his shoulder. Roger gritted his teeth and whirled around, looking a man 3 times his size straight in the eye – again, Roger Taylor would not be seen as a coward.

“Who are you calling little?” He snarled. 

One punch later – and it would have been more if the guards hadn’t intervened – and Roger returned to the cell with a black eye. He huffed as he threw himself into his bed, ignoring Deacon below him. The guards told him he would miss free time and mealtime for the next 2 days as a result of the fighting, so the prison ‘food’ – if it could be called that - would be delivered to his door and he would have to stay in the cell.

Roger didn’t know how he’d managed to mess up this quickly. He hadn’t even been here a day and he already had a black eye, a cellmate that hated him and was now on lockdown for 48 hours. 

Before his anger could build, there was an unexpected voice from below;

“You’ll learn soon enough, blondie.” Said Deacon, though he somehow made it sound the furthest thing from reassuring. Roger just huffed at both the comment and the nickname and turned to face the wall, ready to face his lockdown.

***

Over the next few weeks, Roger did indeed learn a lot. He learnt that in this jail, they had time out of their cells for free time whenever the guards wanted to give it, and they had to walk down the hall to collect their food at mealtimes. There weren’t many inmates in this section, maybe 40 or so, so there was only one shower cubicle that they had to split between them. The food was disgusting, most of the inmates were loud and rowdy, time passed slowly, and prison life was generally boring. He slept a lot to pass the time. Roger learnt that it was best to ignore comments from other inmates, no matter how much they enraged him; now, they mostly seemed to ignore him aside from a few remarks here and there. 

Roger had also learnt a lot about his cellmate. When you share such a tiny space with someone for nearly all hours of the day, every day, you become comfortable with each other’s presence. They still hadn’t spoken more than a few sentences to each other in total – every time Roger asked a question, Deacon gave him a short, sharp and often sarcastic response that taught him to just stop asking questions. During the day, Deacon was either reading, working out or sleeping, pretty much all there was to do in their cell. Roger learnt from listening to guards and other inmates that Deacon’s name was John, and John seemed to be fiercely respected by other inmates. He sat alone, but never had Roger heard any kind of disrespectful comment towards him. Roger wondered exactly what John had done in the past to gain this respect, though that was just one of the many questions he was currently left with.

Another thing that happens when you live in a jail cell with someone is that you become familiar with them in a different way. Considering their toilet was about 2 feet away from the bed… Roger had seen John’s dick on numerous occasions. But God forbid John ever catch Roger’s looks - he was certain it wouldn’t end well. It would just be Roger’s luck to get landed with an attractive cellmate with a great body and an even better dick that seems to hate having any interaction with anyone, let alone Roger. 

A month in jail and Roger was sexually frustrated, but it comes with the territory. He definitely wasn’t going to try any one on one time with John lying below him – he didn’t feel like John noticing and punching him would end well. He could end up being moved into another cell with a cellmate much worse. 

And so, the monotonous repetition of jail life continued.

***

_Roger had never been so turned on just from kissing someone before. He ran his fingers through his partner’s hair, pushing his hips up to move things along. He felt a chuckle escape from the man above him, before hips were pressing down onto his own._

_Roger threw his head back as their hips found a rhythm, gasping out each time their clothed dicks found contact. Lips traced his throat, sucking and nibbling on his skin._

_After an embarrassingly short amount of time, Roger was close. Just as he was about to cum, his partner lifted his head to kiss him, and he could see that his partner was John. Roger came, hard, clutching at John’s shoulders –_

***

Roger gasped awake, still grinding onto the blanket shoved between his legs. As soon as his sleep-addled mind cleared, he froze, feeling the wet spot soaking his prison issued underwear. He hoped to whatever God was out there that he hadn’t made any noise, or even worse said John’s name in his sleep. He lay there for a few minutes, muscles rigid and eyes wide in the darkness, and just as he was allowing himself to relax, he heard something. 

Quiet grunts from below, intertwined with slick noises, like… oh. Oh god. Roger had to lie there and listen to his hot cellmate wank himself off. He squeezed his eyes shut, but all that did was conjure images of a naked John behind his eyelids. He desperately wanted to look down to the lower bunk and see that impressive dick in all its glory but – no, Roger would prefer to keep his face intact.

Instead, Roger lay completely still, staring at the wall with the realisation that he desperately wanted to shag his weird, antisocial cellmate. Brilliant.

***

The next month, Roger still hated prison, but at least felt like he had settled in a little. There was a quieter, small group of inmates that he shared the occasional conversation with and had otherwise got used to the jail routine. He still hadn’t heard about his court date, though he had been appointed a lawyer and discussed with him.

His family had visited, as had his real friends from university after they heard the whole story, and Roger felt immensely grateful that he hadn’t been completely abandoned. The first time they came, he sobbed through the glass in the visiting booth at them, repeating apologies constantly, though they just waved him off and said they’d always support him. He just had to hope his lawyer was right when he said there’s a fairly good chance Roger could get away with just a few weeks’ sentence due to his lack of involvement in the actual crime.

That month, it was Roger’s birthday. His family and friends sent him a birthday package containing a lot of junk food, books, cards, magazines and other things to keep him occupied. Of course, he should’ve known his friends would shove some lewd gay porn magazine in there – not something he would purchase outside of jail but needs must. He made sure to put it in his best hiding space when he _thought_ John was preoccupied.

“What are you hiding?” John sighed. He had an amazing way of always making it seem like even saying a single word to Roger was a waste of his time.

“Nothing. Just a book.” Roger responded, hoping it sounded authentic.

“And why would you be hiding a book?” John cocked an eyebrow suspiciously in his direction. “I don’t want to get put on lockdown for whatever shit you’re pulling. Show me.”

Roger didn’t know what to say, just stared at John aimlessly whilst desperately thinking up a way to avert John’s attention from the magazine. It didn’t work.

“Oh for fuck’s sake-” John grumbled as he got up and snatched the magazine right out of Roger’s hands.

Roger immediately tensed, anticipating an altercation in which John started spewing homophobic abuse at him before probably punching him in the face. He moved to be prepared to defend himself, determined not to go down without a fight.

Though just as he stood up and stumbled back into the central space of the cell, he heard John chuckle. “You don’t need to hide this from me. Or the guards, they won’t take it. Just don’t let the other guys know.” 

And with that, John passed the magazine back to Roger and went back to reading his book. 

Roger stood there for a moment, bewildered at the lack of a reaction from John.

“You don’t – You’re not going to hit me? I thought you might… be opposed to it?”

John just let out a long-suffering sigh, staring at Roger. “Like I said, don’t let the others find out.”

As Roger returned to his bunk, it struck him that this was probably the most him and John had ever spoken to each other. He already had questions about this odd man he had been forced to live with, but after this interaction he had even more. He assumed John was just the kind of guy that didn’t care about anyone else or what they chose to do, but then why would he bother warning him not to let the other inmates find out? Roger wanted answers, and he was determined to find them.

***

The next day, during free time, Roger approached an inmate he’d spoken to a few times before – he wouldn’t say they were friends, but it was good to have someone to talk to at least. His name was Tim, he was in for car theft, and Roger was hoping he might hold the answers to some of his questions. After some meaningless small talk, he decided to just come out with it.

“Do you know anything about John? My cellmate?” Roger asked, resting his head on his hand to face Tim.

Tim immediately stiffened slightly, eyes flicking up to see who was around as he shifted in his seat slightly. When he spoke, his voice was lowered. “Deacon? Don’t ask questions about him, mate. It’s best left avoided.” 

“But why does everyone have that reaction to him? I spend practically all my time with him yet he doesn’t say anything and I know nothing about him. It’s driving me mad.” Roger replied.

Tim let out a long breath, fiddling with the plastic cup in his hands. “If you want me to tell you what I know, you have to give me something in return.”

“What? We’re in prison, what do I have that you don’t?” Roger questioned incredulously, frowning at Tim’s unexpected request. 

“Well, it was your birthday recently, wasn’t it?” Tim smirked in reply.

Roger rolled his eyes, knowing what he had to do.

So, during their next free time, Roger handed Tim a small selection of his junk food stash. Tim grinned, nodding his head towards a quiet table in the corner, away from everyone else. Once they sat, Roger was about to start his questioning again, when Tim spoke up.

“Right. We don’t have long and to save you asking all these questions, I’ll just tell you what I know. It might not be everything you’ve been looking for, but that’s all I can do.”

Roger nodded his head, eager to listen. He leaned over the table slightly, closer to Tim.

“Deacon came in here about a year ago, I’d already been here a few months by then. He was like you when he came, in a way; he was quiet, kept to himself. A lot of inmates tend to be starting trouble as soon as they step through the door. Anyway, no one thought anything of it. He got picked on a bit, the usual new guy shit. 

“Then a few weeks in, his cellmate gathers a group of guys and starts talking to them quietly. Saying this Deacon guy is weird, doesn’t say a thing, just lies there. Only thing he said was that he was in for assault, but his cellmate didn’t see how this quiet guy could’ve assaulted anyone.

“Anyway, people started trying to pick fights with him, trying to get him to talk and stuff, but Deacon always seemed completely unbothered. They’d call him all sorts of shit – apparently he swings the other way if you get me, and obviously guys in here don’t like that. He’d just look at them like they were beneath him. People started to get pissed, especially his cellmate. He just straight up hit Deacon in the cell one day – you can’t get out, doors are locked, the guards take a while – everyone thought Deacon would be beaten to a pulp. This guy was twice his size. But Deacon literally nearly killed this guy. He only fought back, defended himself – but his cellmate got transferred to a different jail because he said he felt unsafe living around Deacon. 

“After that, everyone just leaves him be. Doesn’t mean they don’t think he’s weird, but he’s made himself clear that he wants to be left alone and he seems happy enough to do that.”

Roger frowned, nodding as he took it all in. 

“So basically John is a tough guy that everyone is afraid of? And that’s why you were so reluctant to talk about him yesterday?”

“I wouldn’t go that far. Guys in here aren’t scared of anyone or anything, but we have a respect system. We have to live together, we have to go day to day without any problems. No point anyone bothering Deacon because it’ll just cause problems. No one talks about him because once, he overheard a guy talking about him. He slammed the guy’s head into the table and broke his nose. He’s strange, man, I would just try to keep away from him as much as you can.” Tim shrugged, seemingly bored of talking.

Roger just nodded again, thanking Tim as they stood when the alarm for the end of free time sounded.

***

The one thing that stuck with Roger the most from his talk with Tim was the insinuation that John was gay, too. It wasn’t helping him get over his inconvenient attraction to his cellmate, though he had no solid proof that it was true. The thing was, he still found John quite intimidating; his personality was not very attractive, but that didn’t stop Roger’s mind conjuring up dreams of him being pounded into his bunk bed by John. 

Roger still didn’t have a date for his trial, he still didn’t know whether he would end up in jail for years, but all he wanted was to get out of here and go home. He still had occasional nightmares about the night of the crime, waking up panting with tears rolling down his face. Roger found it unlikely that John had never heard the nightmares, but he was grateful that he never said anything.

Roger sat in his bunk, observing John as he sorted through his books at the desk. He contemplated how John could have won a fight against some beefy tough guy. John wasn’t particularly tall or broad, but he was muscular, and Roger had seen him working out every day. He supposed he could be more agile in a fight, whilst still having power behind him. The prison clothes were loose, but Roger still tracked John’s body with his eyes, picturing the muscle under smooth skin. Roger flushed when he realised he was staring, looking down into his lap.

He glanced back to make sure John hadn’t noticed his staring, before lying down and wrapping himself up in his blanket for the night.

***

Roger’s eyes flew open to meet the muted light of the cell at night, always slightly lit up by the dimmed lights in the corridor that were never fully turned off. He took a moment to wake up, during which he came to 2 realisations; he had been dreaming about John again, and his dick was rock hard. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he rolled over.

As soon as he turned towards the door, he noticed John was just standing there right next to the bed, leaning his arms on the edge of Roger’s bunk, smirking at him. Roger nearly jumped out of his skin, flying backwards and hitting his head on the wall behind him.

“Shit” he grunted, lifting his hand to rub at his head, all the time keeping his eyes on John and wondering what the fuck he was doing.

“Thinking about me?” John murmured, tilting his head to the side slightly.

“What? I -” Roger cut himself off, still rubbing his sore head and completely unable to come up with a lie in his current state.

“Did you enjoy your little chat about me today, hm?”

“I didn’t – John, I’m sorry, I-”

“Shh… I usually don’t take too kindly to people talking about me in this place. But look at you… how could I be angry with you?” John had an intense look on his face, lifting a hand to cup Roger’s cheek as he spoke.

Roger froze, unable to respond to what he just heard, especially with John’s fingers trailing down his cheek. His breath began to quicken as he looked into John’s eyes. He didn’t know whether John was being serious or if this was an elaborate joke that was going to end up with Roger’s nose broken.

John slowly climbed into his bunk, looming over Roger as he settled. Roger gulped, laying back.

“So beautiful, do you know what you do to me? I can’t stop thinking about you.” John whispered as he lowered his body to Roger’s, bringing his lips to his neck. “Is this ok?” John asked quietly into Roger’s ear as he took a wrist in each hand, gently placing them either side of Roger’s head.

“Yes. John…” Roger gasped as the man above him lowered his hips, almost an exact copy of his dream from a few weeks back.

“I’ve seen you looking at me. Heard you dreaming about me. You want this, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do, please,” Roger breathed, inhaling sharply when John released one of his wrists to grab at his dick though his underwear.

“I don’t have to do much to make you beg, do I?” John chuckled, but before Roger could reply, lips descended on his.

They kissed heatedly, Roger tilting his head back and allowing John entry to his mouth, moaning as their tongues slid against each other. He gasped into the kiss as John slid his hand into his underwear, grasping his leaking dick. John slowly stroked it up and down, spreading the wetness from the tip, before moving his hand faster and twisting his wrist deliciously on the upstroke. Roger pulled back from the kiss, tipping his head back with his eyes closed as he breathed heavily, moaning every time John ran his thumb over the head.

Roger was delirious, still only having just woken up, unsure how this was even happening. But he wasn’t complaining. John attached his lips to his neck again, biting and sucking at the crook of his shoulder where his clothes would cover any marks. John’s other hand slid down to his body, beginning to fondle his balls as he murmured dirty words in Roger’s ear, kissing down to lick at a nipple.

Roger whimpered, biting his lower lip as he felt himself getting close. It didn’t take much after lusting after John for so long and already being close to orgasm when he woke up from his dream. John sucked a mark into the skin of his chest, pumping his hand quicker and moving the fingers of his other hand lower to probe at the skin behind Roger’s balls.

“John… I’m close, please,” Roger moaned, eyes rolling back in his head at the feeling of John’s hands working him.

“Yeah? Good boy.” John whispered into his ear, squeezing his hand a little firmer around the head of Roger’s dick as he bought him to orgasm. “Cum for me, then.”

Roger’s mouth fell open as he came, a pathetic whimper falling from his lips as ropes of cum shot over John’s hand and up his own stomach. John worked him through it, gradually slowing and then removing his hand when all the aftershocks were done.

Roger heaved some deep breaths as he tried to get air into his lungs, then immediately choked on air again as he watched John lick the cum from his hand, humming as if it was a delicacy. When he was done, he stroked his clean hand through Roger’s hair, placed a kiss on his forehead, and whispered “Goodnight.” With that, he was gone.

Roger had never been more confused in his life. What the fuck just happened? Why did John do that? Why did he say those things? Was he dreaming?

“Wait, John, what… why?” Roger was incapable of forming any full questions, just spitting out the first thing that came to mind. 

“I wanted to, Roger. Now sleep.” John replied curtly from his bunk. Roger could hear him shuffle as he tried to get comfortable on the shitty prison mattress.

And well, as much as Roger would love to demand answers right now, he was exhausted. John would still be here tomorrow. So he relaxed into the pillow, passing out almost immediately.

***

The next morning was probably the most awkward experience of Roger’s life. John was saying nothing, acting like nothing had happened, just writing in his notebook or reading a magazine. Roger was plucking up the courage to say something, but he had no idea what to say. He also needed a shower, badly, but had to wait until free time.

“John… last night, what was that? You act like you can’t stand to say a single word to me and then suddenly you’re telling me you’re… attracted to me? And - ”

“Roger, it was a bit of fun, a release. That’s all.” John cut him off sharply, without even looking at him.

Roger sighed, running his hands over his face as he contemplated his miserable life. He felt used; of course he wanted it last night, he consented, but John speaking to him like an annoying child was not at all what he envisioned happening afterwards. Roger wanted to go home. He was still completely overwhelmed by prison, he knew he didn’t belong here, and he wanted to see his family and friends. He still immensely regretted ever getting involved with the people that got him landed in here and it played on his mind every day.

To his horror, he realised tears were prickling at his eyes, and it was too late to stop them. John’s treatment of him was the last straw. He sniffled as quietly as he could, but when you’re in a silent cell, it’s impossible to have privacy. John’s head snapped round to look at him, but Roger couldn’t meet his eyes. He stared blankly at the wall as he heard John sigh – seemingly his favourite thing to do.

“Look, Roger - ”

Of course, the alarm for free time would ring right at that moment. Roger leapt down from his bunk, roughly wiping his eyes as he grabbed his stuff for the shower. He marched out of the door, ignoring John as he left, thankful to have some time alone. He stayed in the shower for longer than he probably should have done, enjoying the warm water beating down on him and to be fully alone with his thoughts for once. He always felt dirty in prison, and took his time scrubbing his whole body clean and washing his hair. 

Only, it seemed he was destined to have a fucking awful day. The other inmates knew it was him in there, taking his sweet time, so they snatched all his clothes from over the door – there was nowhere else to put them – leaving him stood in the cubicle wishing the floor would swallow him whole. They couldn’t get to his towel, thankfully, though he felt it wouldn’t offer him much dignity.

“If you want your clothes, come get them blondie!” Jeered a voice, followed by several hoots of laughter.

Roger wrapped the towel around his waist, securing it as tightly as he could, before taking a deep breath. He opened the door, and immediately was grabbed and slammed against the adjacent wall by the guy that punched him on his first day in the prison. He had since learned that this inmate was called Max. His hands were wrapped around Rogers arms and he leaned his body weight into Roger, who immediately started to struggle. Fear churned in Roger’s gut. 

“You look so pretty, little one, we just wanted to join you.” Leered Max, Roger cringing as he realised what he was insinuating. He snarled, doing his best to wrench himself out of his grasp, but then he felt another pair of hands – this time on the waistband of the towel. He kicked out in blind panic, but before anything could happen, both men were suddenly gone. Roger rushed backwards, watching with wide eyes as he saw John tackle Max to the ground, getting in a couple of punches before the guards came running. It seemed the other guy with his hands on the towel had fled as soon as he saw John. 

“He’s with me, you hear me? You don’t lay a fucking finger on him.” He heard John growl at Max as the guards pulled him away. 

Roger backed himself against the wall, arms around himself, breath coming quickly. A guard came to escort him back to his cell, bringing his clothes shortly afterwards. Roger quickly redressed and sat on his bunk, trembling with shock. He felt terrified and vulnerable, though at least he knew no one could get to him here in the cell. He took deep breaths, wondering why John defended him but overwhelmingly thankful that he did.

John was yet to return – likely getting shit from the guards for fighting. Roger just lay down under the blanket, trying to calm down, and waited for John to return.

***

Hours later, Roger could see through the tiny slit of a window filled with thick, translucent glass that it was getting darker. He was still waiting for John, still reeling from the earlier incident. When the other inmates had collected their evening meal, he had stayed in the cell, not wanting to see anyone. He thought about what John said to Max earlier; _‘you don’t lay a fucking finger on him.’_ The circumstances were all wrong, but it sparked something inside of him that John seemed to be willing to stand up for him. 

As he was lost in his thoughts, he heard footsteps outside and suddenly, the door opened. John stepped in with a guard.

“Taylor, just to inform you that you will also be on 15 days lockdown with Deacon. No free time, food will be bought up to you, one shower every other day. More for your own safety than as a punishment. Good night.” Said the guard, before closing the door behind him, leaving Roger alone with John.

Roger immediately jumped down from his bunk, sitting himself on the edge of John’s bed. No more of this no talking – not after today.

“John. I don’t know how to thank you, honestly I – something awful would have happened if it weren’t for you, I just want you to know I’m really grateful. Did they punish you?” Roger spoke quietly, looking at John who stared blankly at the bottom of Roger’s bunk.

“You don’t need to thank me, Roger. I wasn’t going to let them do that to you. Same punishment as you.” He sighed after a short silence, tilting his head to make eye contact with Roger. “Come over here.”

Roger didn’t hesitate, moving to lay next to John, both turning onto their sides to face each other.

“I’ve been cruel to you, Roger. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did this morning after last night. I think… that you’re very special. And I have some explaining to do.” John spoke softly.

Roger didn’t want to talk right now. Instead of responding, he just moved forward and tentatively pressed his lips to Johns. He wanted John, and after his show of possessiveness today he wanted him even more. John responded immediately, grabbing at Roger’s waist and rolling him on to his back to kiss him thoroughly. They began to rock together as they kissed, both hardening in their pants, Roger sighing in pleasure as he hitched his leg onto John’s hip. 

“Are you sure you’re up for this? After… everything?” John questioned, looking into Roger’s eyes as he rested above him.

“I’m sure. I just want to forget about all of this shit, please.”

Roger eagerly pulled John’s head back down to continue kissing him, only for John to pull away again and strip down to his underwear. Roger did the same, frowning as John moved over to the desk and came back holding something.

“Is that lube?” Roger couldn’t help his disbelieving laugh.

“And condoms. There are ways to get stuff you’re not supposed to have in here, if you know how.” John smiled down at him before placing kisses down his neck, smoothing his hands down Roger’s sides to his underwear. “Can I take these off?”

“Yeah.” Roger lifted his hips to help him, and then he was naked underneath his cellmate. “Only if you take yours off too, though.” Roger shot him a grin that was returned as John slid out of his underwear too. 

They went back to kissing and grinding for a few minutes until Roger got impatient, reaching down to hold the dick he had admired numerous times. He moaned at the feel of it in his hands, stroking the impressive length and revelling in John’s hitched breath. 

“I want this inside of me.” Roger whispered in his ear. John slipped a hand between Roger’s thighs in response, circling his hole with his fingertips.

“I’m going to make you feel so good. Don’t you worry. Can’t wait to be inside you.” He moved his kisses to Roger’s neck again, moving slowly down his body. He gave special attention to Roger’s sensitive nipples, continuing down to his stomach and nipping at his hip bones. Roger’s breath was shallow, staring down his body at John, lifting his hips impatiently. John just smirked at him before moving down and gently pressing his lips to the tip of Roger’s dick, placing kisses down the length. Roger whined, his skin tingling with sweat and his eyes heavy lidded as he prepared for more pleasure. He threw his head back when John took his dick into his mouth, sucking gently and moving his head slowly.

“Feels good…” He sighed, cupping the back of John’s head as John pumped the lower half of his dick with his hand, slurping on the head as he sucked. John held Roger’s hips down with his other hand, not particularly wanting to be choked. The pace was too slow to be anything other than a tease, just to get Roger into it. 

When Roger was fully hard and panting, John pulled away. Roger whimpered, tightening his grip on John’s hair instinctively, but loosened it when John began to move lower. John smoothed his hands down Roger’s thighs, lifting them onto his shoulders and spreading his cheeks.

“Shit, John, oh god - ”

Roger cried out at the first touch of John’s tongue to his hole, stroking his hand through John’s hair whilst his other hand gripped the blanket tightly. John’s soft, wet tongue against his hole felt incredible, and he felt sweat prickle at his forehead as the sensation built. John moaned as he pulled Roger’s arse cheeks further apart, sucking kisses onto his hole before flattening his tongue and licking broad stripes in an attempt to loosen him up. Roger’s moans only got filthier and louder as the drag of John’s tongue over his hole continued. When Roger was loose enough, John prodded his hole with the tip of his tongue and began to lick into him, fucking him on his tongue in between assaulting his hole with lips and tongue.

“Fuck, oh _**fuck**_ John,” was all Roger could choke out, mouth open in pleasure as he rocked on John’s tongue, thighs instinctively wrapping around his head. John gently pinched his arse cheeks where he held them, spreading them far apart as he fucked his tongue into Roger. John hummed at the sound of Roger’s cries, before he licked a stripe from Roger’s hole up to his balls, gently taking one into his mouth.

“Please John, more, please” Roger whined, his dick achingly hard. There was something about John and his talented hands and mouth that made him completely incoherent; he’d wanted this for so long, and now it was finally happening.

“How can I refuse when you ask so nicely?” John purred, reaching over to grab the lube before leaning down to kiss Roger, swiping his tongue into his mouth as he slicked his fingers. 

“I’d love to take my time with you, really take you apart… you’d be stunning. But I don’t think now is the time for that.” John spoke against Roger’s cheek, his clean hand stroking through his hair as his other reached down to his hole. Roger leaned up to kiss him, his hands resting on the back of his neck and John slid the first finger in. There was little resistance thanks to the rimming, and Roger moaned into the kiss, breathing heavily through his nose. He tilted his hips up, wanting more, and John pushed a second finger in alongside the first, immediately starting to pump them quickly.

Roger thought John’s fingers should be listed as a weapon, because god were they making him lose his mind. John’s fingers moved rhythmically, curling to brush against his prostate and twisting to rub against all his sensitive spots.

“You like that baby?” John crooned against his cheek, moving his lips down to tug at his earlobe.

“Yeah.. please, please, feels so good,” Roger gasped back to him, panting as he dug his nails into the nape of John’s neck. “Need your cock.”

“Love hearing you beg for me, you sound so gorgeous. You want my cock? Want me to fuck you hard?”

“Yes, _please_ \- just fuck me, I need it” Roger breathed out as he rolled his hips to meet the pumps of John’s fingers.

“Hmm… but you’re not ready for me yet, are you? Stop being impatient.” John replied, slowing his fingers down as he moved his mouth to the bruise he sucked into Roger’s shoulder last night, making it even darker.

Roger groaned in displeasure, frantically lifting his hips to try and make John quicken the pace.

“Keep still. You’re desperate for it, aren’t you? Need to me fill you up?” John murmured, noticing Roger’s previous reactions to his dirty talk and working with it.

“I am, I want you… so bad,” Roger whimpered, nodding in response to John’s words as he continued the teasing, slow pace of his fingers.

John was happy to play this game with Roger, except he was struggling himself, his dick aching and leaking a steady stream of precum. He wanted this just as badly as Roger did and didn’t want to make himself wait much longer, so eased his index finger into Roger alongside the other two, immediately resuming the punishing pace he set earlier.

The only sounds in the cell were both of them breathing heavily, Roger’s intermittent cries and gasps, and the squelch of lube as John’s fingers made sure Roger was ready for him. When John was satisfied, he gently removed his fingers, shushing Roger as he whimpered.

“Shh, you’re about to get what you want.” John moved back, quickly putting on the condom and slicking himself up with lube before repositioning himself ready to enter Roger. “You sure?”

“ _Please_ John, for fucks sa-” Roger didn’t finish his sentence before John pushed his hips forward, guiding himself in slowly, watching Roger’s face the whole time to check for discomfort. All he saw was pleasure, Roger’s head tilted back into the pillow as he gripped the blanket. John continued until his hips pressed against Roger’s arse.

“ _Fuck_ , you’re tight, you feel amazing,” John panted, forehead resting against Roger’s shoulder and hips unconsciously jerking slightly as he waited for Roger to adjust.

“So do you… fuck, you’re big. You can move,” Roger responded after a short break to get used to the feeling. John began to withdraw before pushing swiftly back in, Roger digging his nails into John’s arse cheek with one hand and gripping his bicep with the other. They started slow, but the months of unresolved sexual tension led to the pace increasing quickly.

Roger let out continuous moans as John fucked into him, listening to the grunts from above him and squeezing John’s hips with his thighs for more. They fucked like this for a while, the bunk bed shaking slightly and Roger thankful that the guards didn’t really care about sex between inmates, because he was not being quiet. John then slowed for a second, pulling out and reaching down to pull Roger’s legs onto his shoulders. He leant down to place a quick kiss to Roger’s lips as he pushed back inside, Roger letting out a sharp shout as John immediately continued slamming into him at a fast pace. Roger was practically bent in half, John pressed close to his body due to the limited space and he felt like he was being completely consumed by John. The slap of their skin resounded through the cell, drowning out the sounds of pleasure from the two men.

“Is this what you imagined when you looked at me? Hm? Wanted me to – _fuck_ – pound you into this shitty bed?” John could barely get words out through his panting, leaning down to suck some more marks into the skin of Roger’s chest. “Fuck you’re amazing.”

“Yeah, couldn’t stop thinking about it, dreaming of you. _Shit John_ ,” Roger could feel himself getting close, reaching down to wrap a hand around dick just as John tilted his hips, pushing his dick into Roger’s prostate. Roger cried out in response, scratching John’s shoulder as his mouth fell open from the onslaught of sensation.

“I’m close, John. Gonna cum,” Roger choked out, pumping his dick to the same tempo as John’s thrusts. 

“Yeah? Cum on my dick, baby. Want you to cum,” John was close himself, feeling the sensation build in his lower body.

Roger moaned, biting his lower lip as he wanked himself off, focusing on the push of John’s dick against his prostate and the incredible feeling of him entering Roger’s body again and again. “Fuck, shit, _oh yes John_ ,” Roger’s eyes rolled back in his head and he shouted as he came, still fisting his dick as he blew his load all over himself, clenching down on John’s dick still inside of him.

John shoved his hips forward two, three more times before pulling out, sitting up as much as he could in the confined space, ripping off the condom and jacking himself off all over Roger’s arse. “Yeah, oh shit… Roger,” John sighed out as he watched thick ropes of his cum spurt from his dick, landing on Roger’s reddened arse cheeks and stretched hole. Once the aftershocks were done, he flopped down onto the bed, trying to avoid landing on Roger. They both lay there catching their breath for a few minutes before John dropped a kiss on Roger’s forehead and got up to grab some toilet roll for them to clean up with.

“That was amazing. Really, really good.” Roger smiled at John, feeling shy now - though he really had no right to after what they’d just done. 

“It was. Like I said, you’re amazing.” John returned the smile, stroking Roger’s sweaty hair out of his face before planting a chaste kiss on his lips. It was odd how comfortable they suddenly felt in each other’s company despite how little they still knew about each other, but Roger supposed that’s what happens when you shag the guy you’ve been living with for months.

John was laying flat on his back with Roger’s head on his shoulder, and Roger was just drifting off when John spoke. 

“I’m going to explain things to you, if that’s ok. I want you to know I’m not a complete wanker.” 

“I don’t think that, but please talk to me. I’d like to know your story.” Roger stroked his fingers through John’s chest hair, looking up at him through his lashes, ready to hear what he had to say. “Can I start by asking why you’re here?”

John took a deep breath before beginning. “It’s stupid, really. I was with some friends at a gay club, some of my friends are a lot more flamboyant than me – which is fine, obviously. We were outside smoking when some guy obviously didn’t agree and started attacking my friend out of nowhere. He caught him off guard so he couldn’t fight back, so I pulled the guy off him and shoved him back into the wall. Problem is he ended up hitting his head on the wall so hard that he’s been in a coma ever since. It’s fucked up that I’m in here just for protecting my friend, but that’s the situation.”

“What does your lawyer think?” Roger asked, relieved to hear that John wasn’t a hardened criminal but sad that the circumstances had been so unfortunate for him.

“He’s pretty optimistic, actually. There were witnesses to the guy attacking us first and seeing as I’ve already done a year in here, hopefully I won’t have to do much longer. I guess I’ll just have to see how it goes, though. How about you?”

Roger explained his situation to John, probably rambling a bit too much but just glad to be able to talk after months of silence. He told him about what happened on the night he was arrested, told him all about his friends and getting involved with the wrong people, told him how his lawyer was hopeful, but Roger didn’t dare to hope for too much. John just listened, gently stroking Roger’s hip as he spoke. When he finished, John turned to him. 

“I don’t want to tell you it’ll all be fine, but honestly, I don’t think you’ll have to spend long here. You’re too special for this place, anyway.” John said, smiling at the blush on Roger’s face.

“I’ll make sure to tell the judge you said that. So, now do you want to tell me why you wouldn’t speak to me ever since I got here?” Roger’s tone was light as he didn't want to sound accusatory, though he was curious. The smile dropped from John’s face as he sighed.

“Yeah. I do owe you an explanation. You see, a gay man coming into prison, I was terrified. I knew I couldn’t let anyone know, and I just had no interest in speaking to any of the people in here. Most of them have done really bad things, purposely hurt people, and they’re just not like me at all. I shut myself off completely, gave myself a kind of ‘tough guy’ exterior even though that’s not what anyone would assume, looking at me. Made sure to work out every day so I could hold my own when the inevitable fights happened. And it paid off for me, I beat up my cellmate when he attacked me – though I’m sure Tim told you about that,” John paused to smirk at Roger before continuing. “and everyone left me alone after that. I just wanted to keep my head down, not associate with anyone and get out of here as fast as I could. Then you came along.

“When you first stepped into this cell I knew you were different, I could tell you were terrified, but I told myself I couldn’t let myself drop my façade. For all I knew you could be homophobic, I didn’t want to risk anything. But it was harder with you – every time I snapped at you, I felt bad. 

“Over time, I began to suspect your sexuality, before finding the magazine. I could hear you dreaming a lot but didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Then there was the magazine, and last night I heard you moaning my name in your sleep. How could I resist you?

“I regretted it almost immediately. I felt like I should just leave you be, I knew you didn’t belong here and weren’t made for this environment, which is why I didn’t say anything this morning. I tried to go back to how we were before, which was unfair on you and I’m sorry. Then that _scum_ put his hands on you and I couldn’t contain myself. I felt protective of you, because I could see how you were struggling, yet I never told you that. I should’ve handled it better.” John stroked his hand through Roger’s golden hair as he finished talking, contemplating what he did to deserve Roger in his bed.

“I understand. Really, I do. It could have been different up to now, but at least you did something about it eventually. I’m glad you did. I think you’re a good person, John, and I want to get to know you more.”

“I’d love nothing more than that.” John said as he stretched to kiss Roger’s soft lips once, twice, before pulling away and wrapping his arm around Roger to pull him closer.

It must have been late by now, Roger could see it was completely dark through the window and the cell had dimmed to the night lighting some time ago. His eyelids were heavy as he pressed himself against John to sleep. Of course, this situation was far from ideal; he still had to live in a prison and he still had to go to court soon, but the future seemed a little less scary now he knew he had John on his side.


End file.
